


My Love, My Life

by gardnerlangway



Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 17:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20746340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerlangway/pseuds/gardnerlangway
Summary: He knew just where to go.





	My Love, My Life

It hadn’t stopped raining all day. It was there before he first opened his eyes that morning. It was there on his walk to work. It was there as he locked himself away in his office, during the weekly meeting, while he was trying to work. It followed him home too.

Now it was dark outside and water still struck the windows of his little apartment. He usually felt safe here. He could usually just curl up under a blanket and block out the noise, waiting for sleep to claim him.

But this was different. Tim had spent all day trying to figure out why, why the cold anxiety in his chest was even worse than usual, why it felt like there was a rope tied around his middle, pulling tighter and tighter as the day wore on. Then he noticed the date on the calendar hanging in his kitchen. It must have been sitting in the back of his subconscious all day.

Tim stood in his empty kitchen, watching rivulets stream down the window pane. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how he could make himself feel better. He glanced at the clock. Well, there was one thing he could try.

Lex picked up after five rings. Tim almost hung up, fearing that she wasn’t home, but just as he moved the phone away from his ear, he heard it click.

_“Hey, Tim.”_

“Lex-”

_“Did Ellie leave her book bag at yours? She can’t find it anywhere.”_

Tim squeezed his eyes shut as thunder rumbled across the sky. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll check.”

_“She had such a good time with you last weekend. She keeps telling all her friends that her uncle is Indiana Jones.”_

That made Tim smile, his first reprieve from the noise in his head all day. “He’s an archeologist.”

Lex sighed. “_She’s seven, Tim.”_

“And a thief.”

_“Did you call just to rag on Indiana Jones?”_

“I just don’t think he’s a good representative-”

_“Timmy.”_

The nickname stopped him in his tracks. No one ever called him that, not since he was a kid, only Lex, and only in special circumstances, when she was teasing him or when she thought he was talking too much. It was her gentle way of bringing him back to the present. But the present is exactly where he didn’t want to be.

“Do you know what today is?”

She laughed softly. _“Uh, Tuesday?”_

“Lex.”

_“June 11th, Tim. Why? What does-”_

She broke off so abruptly, he thought for a moment they’d been disconnected.

When Lex spoke again, her voice was low and quiet._ “Oh.”_

Tim pressed his knuckles into his forehead, hard. He leaned back against the wall by the phone, teeth gritted so tight that his jaw ached. He was an idiot. He was a stupid, spiteful idiot. Just because he was overwhelmed by his memories, that didn’t mean Lex was too. She was happy, he’d ruined everything.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Tim turned and pressed his head against the wall, trying to keep his breaths even. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

_“No, no, it’s okay, Tim.”_

“No, you’d forgotten and I made you remember. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

_“I’m glad you did. And I hadn’t forgotten. I don’t think I c-”_ Lex went quiet for a moment, then she asked, _“Do you want to come over? We’re just having dinner, I could save you some?”_

Tim shook his head even though he desperately wanted to accept. “No, no, it’s okay.”

_“Are you sure? It won’t be a problem, we can just-”_

“Lex, it’s fine. Thanks.” He forced a smile, even if there was no one around to see it. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

_“Well, okay. If you’re sure.”_

Lex didn’t sound convinced. He wasn’t surprised. She could always tell when he was lying, even when they were little. She could read him like a book. But she knew better than to push him, especially on a day like today.

_“Ellie would love to see you.”_

The thought of his niece made Tim smile again. “Maybe tomorrow.”

_“Love you.”_

“Love you too.”

He didn’t wait to hear her hang up. He put down the phone, keeping his hand pressed against the receiver as he tried decide what to do. His head was so _loud_, memories of the park, of his grandfather, the rain and the mud swarming like bees. More thunder rolled outside but all he saw was the flash of jagged teeth and burning yellow eyes, his sister’s screams.

Tim passed Angela on his way to the door. She watched him grab his jacket, tail waving uneasily back and forth. She gently called out to him as he walked past again, arching her back towards him, but Tim only scratched her head quickly. The sound of the front door slamming shut behind him echoed through the apartment.

* * *

You were just settling a pot of water on the stove when there was a loud knock at the door. You frowned, looking up at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten, who on earth could be hammering on your door at this time?

You turned down the hob till just a tiny flame remained, pulling your old cardigan tighter around your body as you moved through your apartment to the front door. You peered through the spy-hole and gasped when you saw who was there.

You moved back and wrenched open the door. “Tim?”

He was dripping wet, rainwater sliding down his face, off the ends of his hair, his shirt two shades darker than it should have been. He’d left a small puddle on your doorstep, his shoes squeaking slightly as he stepped closer.

“Can I come in?”

You stared at him, too shocked to move for a moment. When you regained your senses, you moved to the side, gently pulling him inside.

The warmth of your apartment was almost painful. His skin smarted as you guided him into your living room, leaving a small trail of rainwater behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Tim’s voice was hoarse, his throat raw. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have- You’re probably busy.”

“No, not at all.” You squeezed his elbow, grimacing when water seeped onto your hand. “God, you’re soaked. Lemme take your jacket.”

He let you undress him, carefully guiding his arms out of his thin outer layer. You threw it over the radiator, leaving it to dry as you went back to help him out of his shirt next. “Did you get caught in the rain?”

“I was at home and then I realised what day it is and I couldn’t- I didn’t feel- I had to get out of there,” Tim’s gaze flicked between you and the floor, his voice shaking. “And I was just walking around and I realised I was near your place and I had- I just had to see you. I-”

“Why were you walking around in the rain?” Your voice was gentle as you carefully began to unbutton the front of his shirt.

You paused, glanced up at him to make sure it was alright for you to keep going. When he nodded, gaze fixed on you now, you moved onto the next button, carefully working your way down until you could push his shirt off his broad shoulders to reveal the plain white shirt you knew he would be wearing underneath.

“It’s been twenty-six years. Today. Twenty-six years today.” Tim shuddered as you stepped closer, hoping you’d think it was just because of the cold and not the effect you had on him every time you were together. “Twenty-six years and I still can’t hear the damn rain without feeling like I’m gonna be sick.”

Your stomach twisted. You knew all about the incident. Tim had spoken about it only a few times in all the time that you’d known each other, but you’d seen his scars, you knew the story, you knew how the fear he felt as a child still had its claws in him even now.

“Tim-”

He looked down at the floor. He’d left patches of water on your carpet but you didn’t seem to care. His face felt hot, his eyes scratching. Soon, warm tears sliced through the cold water on his cheeks.

“It’s pathetic.” He spat out the words, angry and frightened and sad all at once. “Why can’t I- Why can’t I just get over it? I’m not a kid anymore, I shouldn’t be so scared all the time. I hate it.”

“It’s not pathetic.” You murmured. There was a pause, just a beat, and then you moved closer.

Tim had half expected you to keep him at arm’s length, just like his parents, just like everyone he’d ever known, but you pulled him into a tight hug. He was soaked through and freezing, but you held him close against you, so close that he could feel your heart beating. Then you were speaking to him in a voice so soft but so firm, a spark in your eyes, holding his face between your hands.

“You went through something that no one else can understand. There’s no… Time limit for recovery.”

Your warm hands stung his cold skin but he pushed against them, wanting more, more of your warmth, more of you. “I just… I wish I could…” He rested his hands over yours, his long fingers completely covering yours, pressing them against his cheeks.

“I know.” Your thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The thunder still growled outside but neither of you noticed it now. “I know.”

Tim closed his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. He knew if he saw you, he would feel better. There was just something about you, this burning, golden light. It surrounded you, glowing stronger when you looked at him. He could feel it like sunlight on his skin. He couldn’t help but become addicted to the way you smiled at him, the shimmer of your voice, the warmth of your touch.

He could very easily stay like this forever, but he’d interrupted your evening, stormed in here jabbering about his problems, probably frightening you at this late hour.

“Sorry,” he whispered, gently moving your hands away from his face. “I’m sorry, I should go.”

But your hands gently rested on his shoulders before he could go anywhere. “Stay,” you murmured.

It was the most beautiful word he’d ever heard. Tim felt a shiver seep over his skin as your hands slipped down his arms, then around to his back. “I shouldn’t have barged in like that-”

“Stay,” you said again, firm but gentle.

Tim gazed down at you. He wondered what on earth he had done to deserve you, he wondered how you always knew just what to say, he wondered if this is what love felt like, real love, he wondered if you knew that you felt like home to him, but like no home he’d ever known. He wondered.

“Have you eaten?” you asked.

Tim blinked, still dazed by your gentle touches. “What?”

“Dinner. Have you had any?”

When he shook his head, you smiled and took his hand, guiding him to the sofa. You left him for a moment to check that the pot on the stove hadn’t boiled over, then disappeared into your bathroom.

When you returned, you had a towel in your hands. You walked around to sit beside him on the sofa, shifting closer until your knee pressed against his thigh. Instead of just leaving him to it, you began to towel his hair dry for him, moving the soft material around so carefully that Tim almost burst into tears. No one had ever been so gentle with him.

You hummed to yourself as you worked, an unfamiliar tune but lovely all the same. It was such a comforting feeling, he’d never really been looked after before. Tim had to hold in a soft moan as your fingers worked deep into his hair, moving from the roots all the way to the tips until it was no longer damp and he felt a lot warmer.

“Do you want the TV on? Music?” you said once you’d finished and moved away.

Tim immediately missed your gentle touches, his heart aching as you stood up. But then you tugged a blanket from the back of the sofa and lifted it up high above his head so that it fell behind him, settling on his back. You pulled the corners around his shoulders, pushing them gently into his hands.

“Music would be nice.”

You left him on the sofa again, turning to run your fingers along the spines of your CD collection. When you found the one you were looking for, you pulled it from the ranks with one fingertip, prising open the case and slipping it into the player.

Tim pulled in a long breath, and at last the tension in the pit of his stomach eased. He drew in another and another until he no longer felt that fearful ache. Then familiar music encircled his head with the same warmth as the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

_‘I’ve seen it on your face, tells me more than any worn-out old phrase. So, now we’ll go separate ways. Never again we two, never again, nothing I can do…’_

“I love this song.”

You smiled, laughing softly as you slipped the CD back onto the shelf. “I know you do.”

You told him you were just finishing dinner but he could stay there, if he liked, in the warm. Tim agreed at first, happy to just do as you told him. But as the soft music soared round your apartment, he felt courage guiding his body.

Soon he was in the kitchen with you, gently wrapping an arm around you waist. Surprised, you turned away from the pasta boiling on the stove, letting out a relieved sigh as he pulled you against his chest. It felt so good to hold him, so good to be held by him, to have his hands on your back, his chest against yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured, turning and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

It was just a quick, chaste thing, but it made your heart pound. You were worried he’d be able to feel it as he pressed closer against you. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. Trust me.”

Tim moved away but not far, his gaze drifting between your eyes and your mouth. Thunder boomed outside but he didn’t even flinch.

He bent his head forward, his hands warm even through all your clothes. “Thank you.” he murmured again, letting his forehead bump gently against yours.

Your breath shuddered as your eyes closed, and you bit your lip, embarrassed. Your heart seemed to be pushing against your ribs, pushing you forward against him, guiding your hands as they rose to press against his chest. You could feel his heart hammering under your palm.

“Can I…”

He was so close now that his breath brushed your lips.

“Would it be alright if I…”

You smiled. “Yes.”

First his nose brushed yours, his hands smoothing down your sides to rest on your hips, then his lips just grazed yours. It was so gentle, you hardly felt it, but it was enough to set your heart racing. You wanted more than anything to pull him tighter against you, but you waited patiently for him to move again, you would wait forever if he needed you to.

But then his hands pressed in, pulling you tighter against him, and your breath caught, lips parting as his mouth moved against yours, slowly, tentatively, but so, so, lovingly.

Tim found himself forgetting every worry that curled around his heart and every doubt he’d ever had about himself. All that mattered was you, just you and him, kissing in your kitchen on a stormy night.

You were disappointed when he eventually pulled away but he didn’t go far. You felt the tip of his nose brush past your cheek, then his forehead was pressed against yours again.

“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

He was warm, inviting. You didn’t want to let go. You were so stunned, you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, and when you finally managed to speak, your voice was small and breathless. “Probably about as long as I have.”

You were so close that you were murmuring into each other’s mouths. Tim let go of your hip with one hand, gently holding your face instead. His hands were rough and calloused, you could feel the raised lines of his scar against your skin. All you could think about was how they would feel running down your body, but that was another thought for another time.

Tim smiled to himself as you leaned into his hand, just as he had done to you. “I came here because you’re the only thing that distracts me, from the rain, from all of it.”

You opened your eyes at last. In the low light, his gaze was warm and soft. “I think that’s a compliment?”

Laughing softly, he moved closer still, and now Tim could feel every curve of your body against his. He felt a shiver run over his skin. “It is, promise.”

There was a pause, just a moment, and all you could do was look at each other, then your hands slipped up to his shoulders, pulling him back to you and you pressed your lips against his, much harder and more desperate than before, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth, earning yourself a groan.

With a delighted laugh, you slipped your hand into his hair, pulling softly. You felt Tim practically melt against you, and you knew that he knew that you loved him, that he was safe, that everything was going to be alright, that you had him.

Tim groaned as your tongue pressed against his, moaning your own name into your mouth. His voice was so soft, almost like he was praying. He spoke your name pleadingly, quietly, kissing you so desperately that your whole body curved into his. His hands were everywhere, excited and eager, on your back, pressing under the hem of your shirt, making you break the kiss with a gasp.

Tim took the opportunity and just tried to catch his breath for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours again. He pulled in a shaky breath, trying to settle his nerves, but it had little effect. Instead, he laughed, breathless and hopelessly happy as you pressed kisses all over his face, letting him know that you wanted him, loved him, needed him, whilst the storm raged on outside.


End file.
